


You and I

by Cerfblanc



Series: The Mental Pressure of Failure [6]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Brother/Brother Incest, Brotherly Angst, Coming of Age, Confrontations, Heavy Angst, Homesickness, Implied/Referenced Incest, Leaving Home, Love/Hate, M/M, Sibling Incest, Teen Angst, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 05:03:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12674958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerfblanc/pseuds/Cerfblanc
Summary: “I want to sleep with you.” He says.“You already do.” I respond.“No, I mean when we get back home.”“I’m not going home.”





	You and I

**Author's Note:**

> Angst. Angst angst angst. Lots of feelings. Let’s cry together :D

_**Year 1991** _

 

I’m twenty years old and I’m sitting in a local cinema with my fifteen year old brother. It’s two in the morning. We’re the only ones sitting in this showing.

His head is against my shoulder, and one of his hands is resting against me. His fingers are close to the inner of my thigh. They move every so often. They caress me. I can feel his warmth through them.

I hear Nathan breathe out against my shoulder, and he moves closer. I feel him press to my side. The film is nearing to the end when he speaks.

“I want to sleep with you.” He says.

“You already do.” I respond.

“No, I mean when we get back home.”

“I’m not going home.”

His body stills when I say that, and I let out a sigh. I fucking told him hours before we came to the cinema. He doesn’t want me to leave. He doesn’t want to be stuck with Mom at home. I know that. I fucking _know_ that. I fucking _know_ he hates it. He fucking hates it when I’m not there. _I know that_.

“I told you before,” I say, “I’m leaving in a few hours. I’m not going back home. You know that.”

His fingers grip at my inner thigh. “I don’t want you to go.”

“You’re fifteen years old. Get a grip.” I state, and he breathes deep, like he’s about to cry.

“ _Sam_.” He says. His voice is urgent. I know why. But I don’t confront it. I don’t want to. He’s annoying me. He needs to shut up.

His fingers edge closer, upwards— _he’s gonna fucking turn me on in a moment if he doesn’t stop it_ —and he whispers, “ _Please_.”

“Not here.”

“But it’s dark—“

“I don’t _care_.”

I want to push myself away from him, but I don’t. I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to him. I could only verbally tell him what I wanted.

“I hate you sometimes,” my brother says, without the bitterness in his tone, “but I still love you—“

“I’m not letting you suck me off in a cinema.” I cut in, “I’m not doing that, you hear?”

He gets the message then, and a little of me is relieved, but then his fingers slowly slip away from my thigh, like he’s been hurt, as if he’s retreating, and I regret scolding him. He places his head against my shoulder again. He keeps his hands to himself. I swallow the dryness in my throat.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly.

“It’s fine. Forget about it.”

“Do you have to go?”

I can feel him shuddering.

I exhale, “Yeah.”

“Does it have to be a year?”

“Yeah.”

“Will you phone me?”

“No.”

I turn my head to him, and he does the same.

He asks, “Why not?”

“You’ll start crying at the other end of the line when you hear my voice.” I answer. He buries his face into my shoulder then, and his slim little fingers grasp at my jacket.

“Are you crying?” I ask, gently. I don’t get a response, but I hear him sniffle. _Yeah he’s definitely crying_. “Nathan, c’mon, don’t do that to me.” _I don’t know how to act soft towards him._

“You’re all I have.” He sobs, “and now you’re fucking running away from me. _Again_.”

I wrap one arm around his shoulders, and I try to comfort him. I try to do _something_. I _try_ , “Nathan I’m not running away from you,” _God, this isn’t doing anything to help_ , “I have to work. If I don’t, shit’ll happen. I don’t want that. Do you understand?”

He nods into my chest, “Yeah.”

“…Try not to think about it too much, okay? That’s what I do, when…I don’t want to leave you here.” I add to assure him, “You know I love you more than anyone else. And one day…I’ll…I’ll take you with me.”

He nods again and hums.

I squeeze him tight and nuzzle my nose into the top of his head, and I say, “You and I.”


End file.
